


Place We Belong

by ScotlandEvander



Series: Shattered [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Sorting Ceremony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-16
Updated: 2013-07-16
Packaged: 2017-12-20 09:57:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/885904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScotlandEvander/pseuds/ScotlandEvander
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If one thing history had taught Tom, one could not hope to rule with fear alone. It was best to have a combination of love and fear.</p><p>Calliope Wren Riddle was a living example of this concept. Tom knew, due to the fact she believed herself to be his half sister, she loved him unconditionally. Yet, she feared him as she ought to. The combination was breathtakingly beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Place We Belong

**Disclaimer: If you know it, I do not own it.**

* * *

Tom watched her with a predatory glint in his eyes. She held her head high, her expression a duplicate of his polite indifference. Standing with her fellow first years, he saw her flash a calculated smile. Like his own, it did not reach her eyes. Those amber eyes, which had become more shot through with blues and shards of red when she was angry, remained cold.

He’d made a female version of him. Calliope was perfect behavior wise, yet her magic was still wild and not as trained and perfected as his was at eleven. He conceded this point, due to the fact she did not have his brain. While talents had been exchanged, the past two weeks of training the child had shown him her mind was not as sharp as his own.

Tragic, but foreseeable. 

Her main power lay in her voice and that would aid in performing Dark spells. Intent was key behind casting any spell, but emotion played a larger role in performing the Dark Arts. With the force that lay behind her voice, even speaking, she would be able to perform Dark spells almost as well as Tom. After seven years of training, she would take her place at his side and while he further delved into the Dark Arts. She would use her power to influence the masses to his side. If one thing history had taught Tom, one could not hope to rule with fear alone. It was best to have a combination of love and fear.

Calliope Wren Riddle was a living example of this concept. Tom knew, due to the fact she believed herself to be his half sister, she loved him unconditionally. Yet, she feared him as she ought to. The combination was breathtakingly beautiful and Tom promised to look into having people actually love him. The insipid shallow fancies held for him by the population of Hogwarts held nothing against what Calliope felt towards him. He decided to devote this year to figuring how out to cause the emotion and devotion in his followers. So far he only charmed people and once he had them he made sure they feared him. 

He wished he had her power behind his voice. Then his charm would go further when he spoke. He’d be able to do more than simply fool people into thinking he was a polite, handsome, nice orphan.  

Keeping Calliope in sight as she came to stop with the other first years at the front of the hall, Tom noticed Dumbledore frowning in Calliope’s direction. Tom internally smirked. The old coot had noticed the drastic change in Calliope’s behavior after her return. Tom knew he would, as nothing went without notice when it came to Dumbledore. The other professors did not know the child as well as Dumbledore, so they only assumed it was all part of her recovery. 

There was no more singing. No more annoying guitar playing. 

She was serious. She listened when Tom spoke and took what he had to say to heart. She followed directions, unless she thought it was stupid, which had only happened once so far.

She paid dearly. 

“Who is that girl you’re staring holes into?”

Turning his head to his right, Tom’s eyes landed on the blond Malfoy heir. The grey-blue eyes looked curious.

“She looks kind of like a Black,” said another voice across from Tom. 

“I know.”

“But, we don’t know her.”

“You will,” Tom said, but offered no more.

The Hat began to sing its song. Tom sat up straight, pretending to listen to the insipid, pointless song about the Houses the Hat spent all year coming up with. Upon finishing the song, Dumbledore began to call students up. Tom politely clapped when Slytherin got a new student. He was anxious for one student to be sorted.

“Riddle, Calliope.”

Calliope walked up with ease and grace, lowering herself onto the stool. She gave Dumbledore a cool smile, which caused the man to frown for a fraction of a second. The Hat lowered onto her head and she crossed her legs at her ankles, folding her hands primly in her lap.

Silence.

It was a heavy silence, between the Hat taking its time and Tom’s fellow Slytherins all staring at him. Tom did not say anything, keeping his eyes locked on Calliope.

He assumed, with his own blood in her system, she’d instantly sort into Slytherin just as he had. No other house was worthy of her. 

As he watched, he saw Calliope’s knuckles go white. She was squeezing her hands together very tightly, something Tom knew meant she was getting angry. Calliope was arguing with the Hat? Black would be waving her hands around and stomping her foot while she fought with the Hat. She would be displaying that inane Gryffindor behavior. 

How the House of Black had produced such a blatant…Gryffindor was beyond Tom. 

Smirking in spite of himself, Tom mentally patted himself on the back. He had taught Calliope manners, taught her to contain her emotions while not casting magic. It took awhile to drill into her that emotions were weak and as Riddles they were not to show them. She occasionally had emotional outbursts, but it took a lot to set her off. 

“SLYTHERIN?”

The Hat almost sounded as if it were tired and not all that convinced. Calliope pulled the Hat off her head and handed it to Dumbledore without looking at him. The Slytherin table burst into applause, but Calliope did not smile or grin. Her face was set in its blank mask, but her eyes were flashing amber and red. 

She was really mad.

Shocked, Tom felt his face contort a bit as she stalked towards him. Tom elbowed Alphard Black to move over to make room for Calliope. He did without question and the girl sat down.

“What happened?” Tom asked, staring down at her. 

Looking up at him, her eyes flecked with red more than blue, she said, “That blasted Hat wanted to put me in Gryffindor. I have never been so insulted in my life.”

Tom quirked an eyebrow, allowing a small frown to play across his face. He had altered her so much there was no more bleeding heart Lion within her. Why would the Hat even consider putting the child next to him anywhere except Slytherin? 

“The Hat said all sorts of rubbish, T.M.,” she went on, failing to notice all the upper years were staring at her in various states of shock. “Honestly. Gryffindor. I’ve never heard something so ridiculous.”

“I take it you talked your way into Slytherin,” Tom guessed. 

She cut him a look for a moment before looking down at the empty golden plate in front of her. “I debated with the Hat. I did not argue. I kept my head and debated with the Hat till I won. It had foolish ideas. It seemed to think it knew me, having sorted me before. It said it’d seen me at least twice more. Clearly, that Hat is mad.”

Tom blinked, quickly composing his features out of the shock they wanted to displace. Tom knew the Hat had sorted her once before, but it’d see her again? Did this child make it a habit of time traveling and not remembering it? He was sure he was the first person to ever alter her mind. And the last. 

“Clearly,” Tom agreed. “Calliope, I’d like to introduce you to my friends and your fellow housemates.”

Calliope’s face quickly rearranged itself and her amber eyes stopped doing that odd glowing thing they did when she was over wrought with emotion. She plastered a pleasant smile on her face, directing her attention to the table. 

“To your right is Alphard Black, he’s a fifth year,” Tom began, indicating to the good looking young man. He nodded at Calliope, studying her carefully. 

“Charmed,” he said, taking her hand and giving it a kiss. 

“I’m sure,” she answered, bowing her head a bit. 

“Next to Alphard is Randall Lastrange. Sixth year. Across from him is Walburga Black, sixth year. Cedrella Rosier, sixth year. Damon Crabbe, seventh year. Jacob Nott, sixth year. Zane Prince, seventh year. Artimis Goyle, fifth year. And finally, Abraxas Malfoy, sixth year.”

Each student greeted her. She smiled politely and introduced herself. She quickly excused herself, telling the upper years she had to go meet her fellow first years. Standing up gracefully, she moved with poise down the table towards the first years, taking her seat as the food appeared. Tom turned back to his friends and waited for a moment. 

“She is lovely, Tom,” Walburga offered. “I wasn’t aware you had a little sister.”

“Half-sister.”

He didn’t offer any more. Walburga turned, studying Calliope with a new eye. 

“I see the relation, but she’s…” 

Walburga stopped speaking. Tom knew perfectly well what she was noticing in Calliope. 

“Did you know there’s a Black family living in France?” Tom began. 

Walburga turned sharply towards Tom. “No, I was not aware.”

Tom extended his head. “There is. That is what you are seeing in Calliope. We have different mothers.”

In the past two weeks, Tom had concluded Calliope had not picked up his magical ability to speak to snakes, something he was thankful for. His inner circle knew of his ability to speak to snakes, which they knew came from one of his mother’s side. Tom knew, though, Calliope might show signs of Parsletongue in the coming weeks. While Tom’s magical traits all showed up within a few hours (as did the physical ones), Calliope due to her age was slower in showing signs. In the past two weeks Tom had noted her fingers were longer than they’d been before, and straighter. Her nose had gotten a little more narrow and her eyelashes grew even thicker and longer. The red specks in her eyes became more dominate when she was angered. He made a calculated guess as she continued to grow, she’d grow to be more like him, magically and physically. 

Tom gracefully and tactfully turned the conversation away from Calliope, asking about summers, trivial matters and other things he did not honestly care about. 


End file.
